#cg!elvis

[wanderingelvis]

Omggg cg!Elvis x littleF!reader who’s sick and keeps slipping into littlespace cuz of how sick she is so he takes care of her despite the possibility of him getting sick? 🥺

Thank you so much for the request!! I hope you like it <3

🧚 Masterlist 🧚

Word count: 2,135

Pairing: Early 70's CG!Elvis x Little F!Reader

Oh Lord, you were trying so hard, so so hard to be a big girl.

You knew that Elvis had so much on his schedule, the Colonel was working him and you too by default. You'd been on the road with Elvis, helping out where you could like the good little girlfriend you were, but it had become all a bit too much and you had caught some sort of bug that was making you feel all kinds of miserable.

And when you were ill, well, that was the most sure fire way for you to slip into little space. You just weren't very good at being independent and coping with the overwhelming and horrible feelings you were having.

But you were trying, you really, really were. You didn't want to interfere with the schedule, Elvis had a lot on his mind and you'd be damned to cross paths with the Colonel when there was so much money to be made. Even when you were feeling your best, you still didn't like to even be in the same room as the Colonel.

All morning you'd felt achey, sore and tingly all over with a fever creeping in. Naturally, you'd been quieter than usual, trying to stop yourself from slipping but it was becoming inevitable.

Your body just wasn't strong enough and you felt exhausted and vulnerable as you sat in Elvis' dressing room as he did a run-through of his show tonight.

You'd found a spare blanket and you were curled up in the corner of the large couch as members of staff and the Memphis Mafia alike walked past you, a few giving concerned looks your way, in particular, Red, who watched as you rested your head on your arms and closed your eyes.

See, being in the state that you were in meant that you had absolutely no concept of time and when you were woken from the light slumber you were in, you had no idea how long you'd been asleep for.

"Baby?" That familiar deep, Southern voice hushed, laced with concern as your eyes sleepily opened, staring up at Elvis who was studying your state with worry on his face after Red had told him that you seemed unusually low today.

You blinked adorably up at him and if you weren't so apparently sick, Elvis would do the most unspeakable things to you.

Elvis sighed, realising how wiped and sick you were as he put the back of his coarse hand on your forehead to check your temperature, which was far too high for his liking.

You couldn't bring yourself to speak, you felt all achey and sore and your head was just so fuzzy that you were pretty much ready to let tears spill down your cheeks.

And Elvis could tell. He'd been with you for long enough now to know your little space 'tells'. You'd go non-verbal, your eyes would get all big and round and glossy, because even after all this time, you still got nervous about being little in front of Elvis - a fact that Elvis actually thought was very sweet and endearing. You'd start chewing on something too, whether it was your toy stuffy, your lip or your fingers, you'd chew on something as you tried to get all your thoughts in order. And there you were, chewing on your lip as you trembled from the fever.

"Oh little one, you ain't feelin' too good huh?" Elvis cooed, to which you shook your head ever so slightly. "Oh baby. Need me to look after you, princess?" Elvis asked as you pushed yourself up feebly, the blanket pooling by your waist as you nodded and rubbed your eyes sweetly.

Effortlessly, Elvis scooped you up in his big, strong arms and your head automatically went to rest on his shoulder as you began to chew on your fingers anxiously, wanting this horrible feeling to go away.

"Y/N is comin' down with somethin' nasty, I'm gon' take care of her, let everyone know they can go home, I ain't leavin' her today." Elvis said to Jerry before he carried you to his private elevator that took him right to the suite that the two of you shared at the top of the International.

As soon as the doors closed, Elvis began to rock you gently. "Gon' get you undressed baby, take off all yer clothes and get you in the tub, give you some medicine that's gon' make you feel all good n'better then we're gon' get you into bed to rest n' take it easy. How does that sound pretty girl?" Elvis soothed.

You nodded into his shoulder, feeling vulnerable and weak as he held you tightly, you couldn't help but let out a couple of sniffles too.

"Little one, d'ya think you can use your words f'me?" Elvis said. He knew you'd go non-verbal whenever you were feeling overwhelmed and little, and usually he wouldn't push you, but when you were feeling little and sick, he needed to know that you could still understand what he was saying and there wasn't anything more serious that was underlying.

"J-Just, don't feel good Daddy." You whimpered and oh if Elvis' heart hadn't broken in two when he first saw you on that couch, it certainly had now.

The name that you'd just called him was definitive confirmation that you were deep in little space and you needed to be treated as delicately as possible.

"I know baby, I know you don't, Daddy's gon' take care of you." Elvis promised, kissing the top of your head as you got out of the elevator into the suite.

Elvis wasted no time in taking you straight to the bathroom, sitting you atop the bathroom the counter as he rolled up the sleeves on his blue silk shirt, one that you'd actually picked out for him because you thought he would look "extra pretty" in it and began to run the bathtub full of warm water for you. He then went through the bathroom cabinet, through the one that held all of the medicines you may need for any particular reason, before he found the right one for your fever and chills.

"Now, you gotta be a brave girl f'me, I know this don't taste too good baby, but it's gon' help make you better, 'kay?" Elvis said as he poured the medicine onto a spoon, ready to feed you as you watched on, grimacing a bit, you hated having to take medicine.

"I don't wanna..." You practically whispered.

"Darlin', I know it ain't nice, but you gotta take it like a good girl, can you do that fr'me?" Elvis said, his tone becoming a little sterner than before, you taking your medicine is not something he was going to compromise on.

You nodded but not without small tears forming, making Elvis feel quietly guilty, he wished that it was him that was sick, he'd give anything to swap places with you. It really did pain him to see you in this state.

"Okay, open them pretty lips fr'me angel, just like that, good." Elvis encouraged as he fed you the spoon with the medicine.

He used his pointer finger on his other hand to poke just under your jaw ever so slightly to close your mouth around the spoon. "Good." He hissed, nodding in approval at how good you were being.

Slowly, he took the spoon out of your mouth as he studied your face, your eyes staring up at him as your nose scrunched up at the sour tasting medicine.

"Baby, that medicine ain't gon' do a damn thing stuck in your mouth like that." Elvis half-heartedly chuckled, knowing you were being a little too stubborn for your own good. "Swallow." He commanded gently.

And, like the good girl you were, you did just that - although with a grimace on your sweet little face the entire time.

"Good girl." Elvis praised softly, as he began to take off your clothes for your bath.

You watched as his coarse, ring-clad hands traced your skin, causing shivers to travel through your already sensitive skin. Elvis hushed you reassuringly, saying sweet nothings to reassure you that you were okay, that he was your Daddy and he was going to make you better, and you believed him.

After you were fully undressed and after Elvis checked the water temperature, Elvis helped you into the tub where you instantly loved the sensation of the hot water on your shivering skin.

"Does my little girl like that?" Elvis smiled warmly as he watched you smile for the first time today, even if it was only a small one.

You nodded as you brought your knees to your chest to rest your head on your knees, your head tilted so you could watch your Daddy.

Elvis grabbed a loofah and took to gently washing you, getting you all soapy and lathered up in the suds as he watched you practically preen in delight at his touch.

"Bein' such a good girl fr' Daddy, ain'tcha?" Elvis soothed.

"Yes Daddy." You said sweetly, your eyes closed in bliss as Elvis continued to wash you all over.

"That's right, that's my girl." Elvis praised as he held out one of your arms to wash it, as if you were some sort of a doll for him to move as he pleased. You were so malleable and so sweet and Elvis loved nothing more than to take care of you.

When Elvis was done washing you, he scooped you up out of the tub and wrapped you up in a fluffy towel, holding you tightly and peppering you in kisses, eliciting a few soft giggles from you.

He knew you were feeling little, you were so overwhelmed and he knew the last week had taken it's toll on you. You were a little people pleaser, so much so, that you'd taken on much more than sweet, little you could manage. You would comply to anyones request and you'd caused yourself to become burnt out and Elvis couldn't help but feel responsible for not stepping in sooner - even if he knew that if he had stepped in, you would've begged him to let you help out as much as possible because you were just a little angel sent from heaven. Elvis quickly got you dressed into your favourite pyjamas that you wore when you were feeling little. They had cartoon horses on them and you'd adorably named each one, one morning whilst Elvis was reading his paper and drinking his morning coffee.

He took special care as he dressed you, mindful that your body was still tender and sore.

As Elvis led you to your bed, you began to feel all drowsy and achey again, making you extra clingy and needy with Elvis, but he secretly didn't mind.

Elvis tucked you up in bed and placed your stuffed bunny in your little grasp, smoothing back your hair that had fallen in front of your face.

After placing a kiss atop of your head, Elvis began to make his way from the bedroom to let you sleep before he heard a whine come from your lips.

"Oh honey, what's the matter?" Elvis cooed, making his way back to the bed before you reached out your arms wide and made grabby hands at Elvis, making him chuckle ever so.

"Daddy, stay," You whimpered. You were not in any fit state to not be close to Elvis. "Don't go, need you." You mumbled cutely.

Elvis smirked as he began to remove his shoes and get atop the bed, next to you, placing one arm across the pillows where your head rested so that you were able to slot into his side and snuggle into him as you clasped onto your stuffed bunny too.

"I ain't goin' anywhere baby, now rest your eyes honey, you need to get your strength back little one." Elvis instructed, his fingers running through your hair, sending shivers through you as you let your eyes close.

Elvis continued to play with your hair as he reached over to his bed-side table with his other hand and grab the telephone.

"Jer? Yeah, Jer, tell the Colonel to tell whoever needs to know that the show ain't happenin' tonight, reschedule, cancel, I don't care. I gotta take care of Y/N, ain't no way I'm leavin' her tonight, not in the state she's in. Okay. Thanks Jer." Elvis said into the receiver before putting it down again.

You couldn't help but feel bad as you nestled into Elvis' side. "Daddy?" You said meekly.

"Yes baby?"

"You don't got to cancel your show Daddy." You said softly, your big eyes looking up at his blue ones.

"Little one, I ain't ever wanna do a show if you ain't in the crowd." Elvis said firmly and you knew he wasn't going to budge on the matter - and with that you drifted off in the arms of your Daddy.

[jhoneybees]

Talkative

Here's a cute little blurb, you lovelies 💕

Characters: Late 60s!Elvis X little! reader

Warnings/triggers: Little lifestyle, age regression

_____________________________________________

Sometimes when Elvis and you go to bed, it would be a bit of a challenge when you're little, especially when you're in a talkative mood which tonight's one of those nights.

“Alright, Comfortable?” Elvis asks as he sets your favourite stuffie beside you after making sure things are good for you, you nod “All good!” reaching your arms out from under the blanket, doing grabby hands making him chuckle.

“I'm comin’ I'm comin” he reassures, walking over to his side of the bed and climbing in under the covers, wrapping an arm under you to bring you closer to him earning a small giggle from you. “What's so funny?” tickling your side slightly.

Your small squeals erupt “ ‘m ticklish Daddy!” pushing your fists against his side in a weak attempt to make him stop, he chuckles and moves his hand. “Okay, Okay” Elvis replaces the tickling to rubbing your back and he smiles lovingly as he looks down at your pretty face.

“I love you, y’ know that?”

He hums as you respond by nuzzling your head against his chest. His hand brushes a strand of hair away from your face, being given the sight of that sweet, innocent, child-like spark in your eyes. His eyes soften “My beautiful sweet girl…” lifting both of his hands to cup your face just below the jaw, leaning in to pepper your face with his famous kisses, giving you the last one on your nose..

“Get your beauty sleep, Honey… ” he mumbles tiredly, you nod against his chest and you close your eyes.

. . .

“Daddy…” you whisper, earning a deep hum from Elvis. “Me and Jerry had a lot of fun today” he breathes out “Is that so?” with a grin on his face, you smile “Mhm! We…we drew really pretty pictures and- and had a tea party with all my friends and..” Elvis’ grin widens knowing that these friends of yours were the plushies that he would give you whenever he came back from tour.

“And we went out in the garden! I took Hoppie with me too but I dropped her in a muddy puddle” your eyes and voice trailing off before looking up at Elvis “She’s ok though, Jer said that giving her a wash in the washing machine wouldn’t hurt” making him crack another smile.

“Mhm, sounds like you did have fun today” letting a small yawn before bringing his hand up to stroke your hair “You must be tired, baby hm?”saying that in hopes that would get you to snuggle up and fall asleep, your head moves slightly against his chest “mmm, not yet- oh! We picked pretty flowers too! Roses and- and uhm hydran- hydran…”

Letting out another yawn, Elvis rubs his face with his free hand “Hydrangea?” beginning to lightly scratch your scalp “Hydrangea! Yeah so-” a quiet, tired chuckle fills your ears “Honey, let’s go to sleep hm? Daddy had a long day” combing his hand through his hair, Elvis lowers his eyes to your doll ones “But I didn’t tell you about-”

“Ya can tell me tomorrow baby” he says with a southern drawl. Rolling onto his side and bringing you in closer with his almost limb arms because of how tired he is “Goodnight darlin’” making sure to place a peck upon your head.

Sighing softly as his chin rests on top of your head, his eyes fluttering closed “I want milk”

“Oh Honey-”

[kiankiwi]

"Oranges" cg!e x little!reader

Just a sweet little fic about hanging out backstage with CG!E!

thank you to @mooodyblue for brainstorming this little cute idea with me based on the photo below! <3

You Elvis and Memphis Mafia were all hanging out in the green room of the International Hotel while everyone was waiting for Elvis to go on stage.

You, while in headspace were sitting on Elvis's lap, laying your head on Elvis's shoulder. He was wearing a white fringe jumpsuit and you loved this jumpsuit on him. You especially loved playing with the fringe, twisting it around your finger and sometimes absentmindedly chewing on them.

Elvis often checked to make sure you weren't falling asleep on him as you laid in his lap. He stood up and paced the room with you, whispering sweet nothings to you, trying to keep you awake because the last thing he wanted was for you to fall asleep and then he'd have to wake you up and/or move you off of him once you were asleep just to go perform.

Jerry and him were still planning and going over his tour spots for the rest of the month as he paced with you in his arms. You spotted an orange on the snack table and pointed at it. "Snack daddy?" Even though the two men were having a bit of an important conversation, E stopped and grabbed it for you. If you needed something, he'd stop everything for you. "Of course lovie. Here, you want an orange?" you nodded excitedly. You loved oranges. "Daddy, help!" You whined again, wanting E to peel the orange for you.

Jerry reached for the orange, "Here, E I got it. Here, sweetie I'll get it for you." You held the orange close to you, not wanting to give it to your Uncle Jer. "No, dada do it." You specifically wanted Elvis to do it for you. You were a bit clingy tonight. Elvis chuckled. "Apparently the baby thinks you'll peel it wrong, here, give it here little." Elvis worked at the skin of the orange, giving you pieces of the fruit piece by piece. You were enjoying it so much. His fingers were going to be a bit sticky and smell of oranges now but he didn't care at all.

A stagehand came and knocked on Elvis's dressing room door and warned him, "You got 10 minutes, EP!" Jerry holds out his hands to you, silently asking if you'll come over to him. You whined, eating your last orange slice and locking your arms around E's neck. You didn't want him to leave him. "Don't go, daddy!" You whined, now a bit tired not wanting him to leave you.

"Here, sweetheart, you want to color daddy a really nice picture? Jerry will hang out with you for a bit and you can make a really pretty picture for daddy while I'm gone?" You nodded. It sounded fun to draw your daddy a picture as a present. "Y-yeah?" You nodded, nervous for him to leave. "It's okay sweetie, daddy will be back." Jerry said softly as he took you into his arms so Elvis could get ready.

"If she wants to go to sleep, just let her Jer, I think she's a bit tired already." Elvis told his friend, getting him ready to babysit you. You chose that minute to place your head on Jerry's shoulder, sighing sadly. "Can daddy get a kiss baby? A good-luck kiss?" You sat up only to give him a quick peck to the lips. "I love you little. Be good for Jerry, yeah?" You nodded sadly. Jerry whispered something in your ear and just then you repeated his words to your daddy. "Good 'uck dada! Love 'oo!" Elvis grinned so big. "I love you honey. I'll see you soon!" And just then he ran off to greet his fans.

[mooodyblue]

♡→CG!ELVIS MASTERLIST

→ all fics contain sfw age regression/little space!

🍼 - personal favorites

main masterlist | little!elvis masterlist

cg!elvis tag

elvis finding out you're an age regressor

“you’re too little to do that”

you refuse to sleep until elvis gets home cg!elvis&cg!jerry 🍼

elvis does your hair. 🍼

you’re left alone with jerry for a few hours and chaos erupts.

someone questions your ways of coping, causing elvis to put his friends in their place. 🍼🍼

elvis helps you regress after being moody towards him.

little!you follows elvis around work all day, but him not paying attention to you gets too much.

you get sad when elvis has to on stage, so he asks you to color him something pretty while he’s gone. 🍼🍼

when elvis is called out to the studio, jerry gets stuck taking care of a overwhelmed little!you.cg!jerry 🍼🍼

when elvis refuses to pay attention to you, you decide to take matters into your own hands and do something drastic to get his attention. 🍼

after waking up grumpy and spending the day finding ways to aggravate elvis, he puts you in time out. but you find a way to make it up to him.

you really just don’t want to sleep.

elvis shoots off one of his guns, causing you to slip in front of the mafia. 🍼

being terrified of needles and getting a shot was your worst nightmare, luckily elvis is there to save the day. 🍼

you come across something not exactly age appropriate on tv while little and elvis is too busy admiring how cute you are to notice.

after a bubble bath, elvis gets you ready for bed.

snow day with little!reader

crawling races with jerry and reader

you wake up little but elvis isn’t home

protective!e

you have an accident in front of fans while elvis is talking to fans at the gates of graceland

elvis tends to you while the mafia is over one night

elvis reassuring his little that he’s okay after being hospitalized 🍼

time traveler!elvis and you watching lilo and stitch together

elvis comforts you through a bad thunderstorm

you struggle with being little and elvis helps you through it.

elvis comforting you after having to put you back in diapers.

reader accidentally breaks and glass and self punishes themselves

elvis cheers you up on a bad day

elvis protects you after a show

reader gets overwhelmed and elvis swoops in to help

reader suddenly goes little and nonverbal during a bad storm

reader has an asthma attack

reader accidentally puts a scary movie on

reader that likes halloween

reader has a nightmare while the mafia is over

reader sprains their ankle

reader hates change

reader insecure about weight

elvis gets too busy for little!reader

the colonel bullies little!reader while in elvis's dressing room

reader gets overwhelmed at a show

reader has a nightmare

reader with emetophobia

[arianatheangel-girl]

Letting Go

Author’s note: This is for @wanderingelvis, as it was inspired by their innocent!reader stories and the story about E slightly manipulating the reader to drop into littlespace so he can become their caregiver. I can’t wait to see more from you!

Tagging: @mooodyblue @kiankiwi

Warning: this does deal with bodily functions, though nothing too graphic. Don’t like don’t read and all of that.

****

You’d been with Elvis for some time now. He took care of your every need, especially when you were feeling a little confused or “fuzzy” as he put it. He’d become your protector, your everything. Even though you were a grown adult woman, you always needed him nearby, just like a father. You only felt truly safe when you were with him, and as a result, you’d become a lot more sensitive (even with as innocent and naive as you already were). You knew you could trust him to take care of you.

But this had caused another problem. You’d started wetting the bed.

You’d mentioned to Elvis that you’d had a bedwetting problem in the past (due to an underdeveloped bladder and other factors) and you had wet the bed until you were almost 10 years old, at which point it had stopped.

You couldn’t figure out what was causing it now. All you knew was, you’d have a nightmare about your past (or just being separated from Elvis), and the next thing you knew, he’d be shaking you awake, holding you as you cried in his arms and felt the familiar warm dampness between your legs. Once you calmed down, he had no problem giving you a bath and changing out the sheets. It was becoming rare that you woke up dry now. You were embarrassed, but you had no clue what else to do.

Then you started having accidents in the daytime too. At first, they were just little ones; when you were feeling floaty or fuzzy, you’d be playing or watching Sesame Street, then start to dribble a little in your panties before quickly realizing you needed to go and rushing to the potty. Elvis never minded this; he just tried to remind you to pay attention to your body and that he had no problems pausing whatever you were doing when you needed to go.

But then they’d gotten worse.

You remembered one particularly mortifying incident. It was one of the few times Elvis took you out of the house to go walk around, and it had gone about as well as one would expect; it didn’t take long for the fans and press to start mobbing you both. You’d gotten scared and clung onto Elvis’s arm, wanting him to take you back up to the house, and that’s when it happened.

You didn’t even feel it at first, but then suddenly people started laughing and pointing at you, and you looked down to see a little yellow puddle forming between your feet as your pee flooded your panties and trickled down your legs. You immediately burst into tears as Elvis roared at the journalists to back off, telling them he’d sue if anybody dared make fun of you for this.

As he carried you back up to the house, mess and all, he’d whispered in your ear “Oh, little, why didn’t you tell me you needed to go potty? I’d have found you a bathroom right away.”

You didn’t even respond, just shoved your thumb into your mouth and started sucking as you cried into his shoulder; you kept crying even as he cleaned you up and gave you a bath.

Unbeknownst to you, Elvis was actually secretly a little thrilled by this; he loved having you depend on him when you were little, and now he felt this was just another way he could keep you under his care.

A few days after the incident, Elvis came home from one of his meetings carrying a large bag in his hand, before sitting down in front of you.

“Little? I think we need to talk.”

You looked up at him, tears starting to form in your eyes. “What did I do?” You asked.

Immediately, Elvis began to comfort you, wiping your tears away.

“Shh, little. Don’t worry, you didn’t do anything. Daddy’s not mad at you. But…well, baby, you’ve been having more and more accidents lately. Now Daddy’s not mad at you for that; I know it ain’t your fault. But Daddy sees how upset you get whenever you wet the bed or when you’ve wet your panties.

So, honey…I think it might be best if we put you back in diapers for a little while.”

Diapers?! You were shocked. “But I’m not a baby!” You protested.

Elvis shook his head.

“No, little, Daddy knows you’re not a baby. But Daddy just thinks this’d be much easier for you. This way, we don’t have to change your clothes or the sheets whenever you have an accident, and you won’t be worried about embarrassing yourself when we go out. And don’t worry; if you do feel the need to go potty, I’ll still let you go to the bathroom normally. But if you don’t, and you do have an accident, Daddy will change you whenever you need it. There’s no shame in needing protection, little. Lots of people do.”

Well...when he put it that way, it did seem reasonable. After all, you didn’t want to embarrass either Elvis or yourself the few times you left the house. And it would be nice to not worry about wetting the bed or having an accident in your pants. So finally, you agreed.

Elvis smiled. “That’s a good girl, little. Now come on, lay down for Daddy.”

You obeyed, sniffling a little as Daddy removed your jeans and your panties. Much to your embarrassment, a little pee had already leaked into them without you knowing. You didn’t seem to be able to feel when you needed to go anymore when you were fuzzy like this.

Elvis then reached into the bag and pulled out a tub of baby wipes, before he gently began to wipe your bottom and crotch clean, making sure there were no traces of an accident there. He then took out a small bottle of baby powder and sprinkled some onto your crotch and rear (“to make sure you didn’t get any rashes”), before pulling a thick, white disposable diaper out of the package.

“Okay, little, can you lift your hips for me?” Elvis asked. Blushing, you obediently lifted your hips as he slid the disposable diaper under you, gently pushing you back down onto the fluffy garment once he did. He then carefully pulled the diaper up between your legs and securely fastened the tapes, tickling your tummy a little once he was done.

“There you go, little. All snug and padded up for Daddy. Now, who wants to watch a movie?”

You giggled. “I do, I do!” Smiling as Daddy lifted you up into his arms as he went to find something for you to watch. You laid your head against his shoulder, feeling more safe and comfortable than ever.

[earthbaby-angelboy]

CALLING ALL DEKE RIVERS FANS

alright SO i’m writing a thingy about some of the ecu characters as littles, and out of four, ive watched three of their movies. only one i can’t find is loving you (featuring deke!) and there isn’t much content abt him in general, so if any of y’all have ideas about what little!deke or baby!deke would be like, please let me know!

-xx calla

@kiankiwi @arianatheangel-girl @mooodyblue @wanderingelvis

[emma181873]

Thinking about bulges 😤

[accidentallyburneddownthelastone]

Old Hollywood cg's

Breakfast/lunch/dinner with Elvis

Meals??? What are those? Actual meals are rarely, if ever, eaten. Its all just snacking.

[bunnydexterloveselvis]

Hiiii and welcome ✨🔆 If you are accepting prompts can i request one please, would you write cuddly fluff and / or agere with a baby BDE? especially a sick fic with a cg reader! Thank you ✨✨✨

Oh my god!!!!!!!!!!!! You're the first one to request a prompt!!! Thank you sooo much!!! Of course I'll write it!! How could I pass up such an amazing request? So cute!!! I've never wrote sick fics before so I'll try my best!!

Sick little baby.. (Agere!Big Daddy Elvis x reader)

summary: //elvis wakes up with a cold, is age regressed, and has you as his caregiver

type of fic: //age regression, tooth-rotting fluff, sickfic

warnings: //being sick?? the symptoms mentioned are sneezing, coughing, headache, mild fever, etc. no vomiting or anything like that. also it's pretty mild. he just sleeps it off, cuddling????? idk some people don't like being cuddled i guess, baby talk?? i don't think there's any serious warnings here besides being sick and age regression

word count: //675 (six-hundred and seventy-five) words

It was a fresh day, and you wake up in the morning, it’s around 8am. You look over at your sweet boy who is still sleeping. “What a cutie,” you thought to yourself. You chuckled and got out of bed to make breakfast. About 15 minutes later you come back, with Elvis still asleep in the bed. You smile warmly.

“Wake up, baby,” you whisper in his ear. He shuffles around a bit and lets out a whine. His eyes flutter open and he pouts. “Mamaaa- ’m sweepy!!!” He rolls onto his back. Oh. He woke up little! You almost giggle from how cute he is. He then sneezes three times and sniffles. “got da sneezies,” He mutters, with a short, reassuring giggle. Then he coughs a bunch. “Um, little one, are you okay??” You ask, caressing his shoulder. He looks up at you with sparkling eyes but very wet eyes. “M-mama I don’ feew so.. Good..” He wipes his forehead trickling with sweat, along with that, his soft chubby cheeks are red and his eyes are half-lidded.

He’s sick. But he has a concert today! “Awww.. What are we going to do?,” you thought. You’ll have to cancel it today. Can’t do a concert if you’re sick! So you make a call to explain that E is sick, and has to cancel the concert today. After that trouble, you run back to him. “Mamaaa…” he cries and makes grabby hands at you, implying he wants something. “What is it, E, baby??” you chuckle a bit from his overexpressed tone of voice. “Mmm.. t-tummy hurts..” he forces out while clenching his hands on his soft belly. “Awwww.. It’ll be okay. Mommy’s gonna help make your tummy feel better in no time!,” you tell him, sitting down next to him, massaging circles on his sore stomach. He looks up at you with the prettiest, sparkliest eyes ever. “Weawwy?” he asks softly. A small smile appears on his face. “Wiww mama make tummy free bettew?” “Of course honey, but you need to rest, I’ll be back with some stuff to keep you busy while I make you stuff to help you feel better! Sounds okay?” You murmur, making sure you don’t scare him. He gets scared when he hears loud noises, and you took note of that as soon as you found out. “Mhm!” he nods. You find his toybox and his paci and take it to him, pop the paci in his mouth while ruffling his hair very gently, remember he has a headache too.

So you give him all his gear, and as you walk away to go make him soup for his tummy, he cries out, “Mamaaa!! Don’ leave!!” You sigh. “E, baby, I have to make you soup so you’ll feel better. Do you wanna take the yucky red-coloured spoon medicine?” you threaten “No!! No yucky stuff!! Just wan’ mama..” he frowns and looks down. You slowly approach him and run your fingers through his hair, which usually calms him down. It did. He buries his face in your chest while hugging you tight. “I-I wuv you mama” he says into you. Making you smile sympathetically, you say, “Okay.. I’ll lie down and nap with you, but the first hurt noise I hear from you, I am getting the medicine,” half jokingly. He pouts as a joke, making you giggle. 

You pet his hair while trying not to get sick yourself. His eyes get half-lidded and sleepy. You pet his forehead in an attempt to calm his headache. It worked, weirdly, more like distracted him from his headache to your soothing touch. Elvis practically did something similar, he held you, his mama, close. Never letting go. Planting a kiss on his cheek, you whisper sweet nothings into his ear to lull him into a nap. Afterwards you make him some chicken noodle soup for when he wakes up in case he gets hungry.

You really hope he naps for a while, because you can’t seem to get this can of chicken soup open.

(i don't feel like this is good enough, i feel like it's too vague. let me know if you like it!! It was a teensy bit rushed and i wrote half of it when sleepy)

[earthbabysbooks]

MASTERLIST

-hello all you beautiful people!

-(you already know the drill) but my name is calla and i run a blog called @earthbaby-angelboy (previously bellanotchewrites!)

-i decided to make a lil place where i can repost my friend’s works, and give recommendations!

-most of these fics are angsty or about age regression, so dni if it’s not your cup of tea :]

-my messages are open / you can always tag me with fics you think i should repost.

-under the cut begins the masterlist; my personal favorites have a 🧸 next to them!

-thank you for reading, and i hope you find some comfort in these trying times. xx

THE ECU HEADCANNONS

Toby Kwimper general headcannons

Clint Reno general headcannons

Vince and Toby at the beach 

Night time routine with Dr. John

ELVIS PRESLEY FICS + HCS

Helping his sick S/O

Comforting his S/O through the loss of a parent

Helping his depressed S/O

Standing up to his best friend’s abusive parents🧸

Helping his S/O enjoy their birthday

El's S/O is a bit too clumsy...

Dad!E picks up his daughter from school

Teenaged Elvis helping the new girl at Humes

Elvis receives a unique piece of fan mail

CG!ELVIS

Buying his little a new plush

Little!reader colors a picture for Elvis

Protective CG!Elvis���

Defending his little from the Colonel during the 68’ Special

Helping out his nonverbal little

Defending his little in front of the Mafia🧸

Helping his little who is overwhelmed at his show

Comforting his little who doesn't like change

Helping his little who has PTSD🧸

Cuddling with his little one while in the hospital

BFF!Elvis helping his nonverbal + little best friend

Trying to stay big while on an important trip🧸

Regressing at the beach🧸

Defending his baby while on a movie set

Comforting his little after a nightmare

Helping his baby who is struggling to slip 

His very sleepy little, who absolutely will not go to sleep

Elvis spooking his little by firing a "warning shot"

“You’re too little for that”

A night time routine

Elvis gets his girl out of work

Helping his hypochondriac baby

Playing hide-and-seek before bedtime 

Irritating Elvis to get his attention

LITTLE!ELVIS

Elvis wins at hide and seek…

Gentle giant🧸

Little!E gets hurt on stage

Christmastime

CG!Jerry and Baby!E’s nighttime routine

Helping Little!E regress

Playing dress-up with Little E

His new teddy bear

ELVIS PRESLEY ESSAYS / NONFICTION

Possible reasons behind Elvis’ use of baby talk🧸

[wanderingelvis]

Okay, just...imagine CG Elvis feeding his little while she sits on his lap or in a large highchair.

This is super cute! I'm gonna make it a headcanon:

🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻

Pairings: CG!Elvis x Little F!Reader

Elvis loves to feed you, and you love being fed by your Daddy

Elvis always wants to make sure you're well fed, so mealtimes are the most certain thing in the day, despite Elvis' ever-changing, hectic schedule

He knows all he needs to do is pat his thigh and you'll come running, clambering up onto it so you can straddle it

You're usually always well-behaved, sitting on your Daddy's knee whilst he wraps a strong arm around your tummy, his large hand gripping your side to keep you in place

He'll use his other hand to feed you, passing you bits of fruit or spoon-feeding you your meal

You're soft natured and pliant, which Elvis loves, making meal times a tender and intimate moment for you two

That doesn't mean it can't get messy, oh boy, it can get messy

Sometimes you're just feeling too little, and you miss your mouth when trying to feed yourself, causing Elvis to intervene

"Hold still, will ya baby? Whatchu got? Ants in yer pants?" Elvis chuckles, teasing you as you giggle

He'll end up taking a damp cloth and wiping it across your face at the end of the meal as you giggle at the tickling feeling it gives you

Your set up of eating whilst sitting on your Daddy's lap never changes and you both love that

Even if there are guests

You'll be quieter than usual, naturally shy at a lot of attention directed in your direction, even if it is mostly at Elvis

But Elvis will rub soothing circles on your tummy, or have his thumb trace your sides, discreetly albeit comfortingly

He'll pass you your food or feed it to you, and you'll concentrate just on that, thinking about the grown-up conversation going on at the table would just be too much for little, sweet, you

Elvis knows when you're full, it's when your head is lolling on his shoulder, your whole body relaxed and melting into his

But that's usually before you've finished your vegetables, with them still scattered on your favourite, pink plate that has pictures of bunnies on it

"Just got ya vegetables left, sweetpea." Elvis reminds you gently

"Can't do it, Daddy, m'full," You mumble

"You can do it, Daddy knows you can, you gotta eat your greens." Elvis reminds you, with a slightly sterner tone, and you know that you're not going to win this battle, even if you don't like vegetables

"Now, open that pretty little mouth for Daddy and finish your plate, like a good girl."

You'll reluctantly yet obediently open your mouth, letting Elvis feed you the final vegetables, even if it does take ages, Elvis will wait it out to make sure you're being healthy

Elvis will whisper sweet praises in your ear, which he knows will make you just melt

Once you've swallowed the last bit of veg, Elvis will always kiss the top of your head

"What's for puddin', Daddy?" You'll ask sweetly, fiddling with his rings, distracted and feeling small

Elvis will chuckle at your delicate state, he loves meal times as much as you do, it's the time when he feels most like a caregiver to you

"Thought your tummy was all full, little girl?" Elvis says, raising an eyebrow at you

"Still got room in my tummy for puddin', Daddy." You giggle

And he always gets you pudding

taglist: @dandelionxbby @littleloveysworld @lana-4life @kxnnxy @mygreenlights @domaniquessidehoe @reddie-freddie @meetmeatyourworst @octobers-snow @slimerspengler @elvisbf @astralheart21 @fallinlovewithurlove @eliseinmemphis @gothicphantom @sassanoe @hollbunn @ellie-24 @elvispresleywife @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @billhaderstan420 @wwebaby657 @wolywolymoley @ccab @librafilms @presleyenterprise @imaginationlast @vintagegirl2005 @prompted-wordsmith

[jhoneybees]

Little Nurse in Charge

Finally I'm posting another fic! I've been really missing the experience of writing so I'm getting my fogged up brain to work again lol there might be a few errors and misspelt words😅

Characters: Late60s/70sCG! Elvis X little!reader

Warnings/triggers: Age regression, little lifestyle, sickness

This is honestly my favourite moodboard🥹👇

Elvis had a long, stressful week. His schedule was hectic, being rushed from one place to another and doing a lot of recording and such was really taking a toll on him. You being his beloved partner, you worry about him. Everytime you would suggest for him to get some rest, he’d just brush it off and say he can handle it in which seeing him fall asleep in a millisecond the moment he flops onto the bed after a jam-packed day at the recording studio tells you otherwise.

Once Elvis finally gets some time off, the next morning he wakes up sore all over also having a scratchy throat, clicking his tongue in annoyance when he realises. Detangling himself out of the bedsheets , he pushes on the mattress with his knuckles and makes his way to the bathroom to find something for this “stupid cold” he mutters to himself, he stops in his tracks when he hears you stir in your sleep. Turning his head, Elvis watches your eyes flutter open, blinking blankly at him a few times before your eyebrows start to furrow and a pout forms. He sighs softly, you woke up little. Elvis pinches the bridge of his nose whilst resting a hand on his hip. How is he gonna take care of his sick self while also looking after little you? He already feels like a sack of potatoes that's been knocked about on the back of a farm truck so having to make sure your needs are met is gonna be a tough challenge, he never says no to being a caregiver for you though, he always takes up the challenge.

Elvis walks back over to the bed when you do grabby hands and he weakly chuckles “Mornin’ baby” leaning down to kiss your forehead, you respond wiggling closer to him and wrapping tired limp arms around his lower abdomen. Elvis smiles and strokes a strand of hair away from your face “Did ya get a good sleep?” answering with a small nod “Good sleep, daddy” you say while burying your face in the side of his thigh making him chuckle but he suddenly clears his throat which you didn't take notice of. “Did Daddy have a good sleep?” you ask quietly, Elvis cocks his head to the side and stares at the wall, letting out a hum as he thinks “Not really, Daddy's not feelin' too good this Mornin'” looking back, he sees a worried frown from you “Why?” questioning as you decide to sit up and Elvis smoothing your hair down. “Hm just sore and achy, baby” your concern grows, no matter if you're little or not, you always made sure Elvis is alright which sounds like he isn't, your eyes leave his to stare down at the duvet on the bed, the little crease between your eyebrows prominent as you process the situation.

Suddenly your eyes light up with an idea and you quickly scurry out of bed, pushing Elvis’ chest with your little hands “Lay down Daddy, lay down” you order and Elvis frowns in confusion “um sure.. but- why baby?” Doing what he's told, swinging his legs onto the bed and resting his head on the head board. You try to give him an authorised look but just ended up looking like an angry baby to Elvis, he chuckles slightly before he nods and raises his eyebrows at you “Daddy's sick, I- I'm look after him” explaining your plans to your daddy making him smile nervously “U-um that's real sweet of ya honey but i-i- don't think that's a good idea..” usually when you're little, Elvis would do everything for you since you just make a mess or have accidents that end up you crying or getting injured but you just shake your head “uh uh no daddy, nigh nighs’ “ telling him to just go to sleep and let you do your thing which he hesitantly accepts and gets comfortable under the covers. Elvis watching you run out of the bedroom and hearing your sooties scattering down the stairs, he laughs to himself at your funny behaviour.

After some time you arrive back through the bedroom doors with the first aid box that Elvis keeps in one of the kitchen cabinets for whenever you hurt yourself or get sick, a bit confused how you retrieved it since it's kept in a place out of your reach “H-how did you get that?” Elvis sits up and points a finger, you look at him with a pout and set the box on the bedside table “No Daddy nigh nighs!” completely ignoring his question and you push on his chest to make him lay down, Elvis sighs “Okay okay, I'm going nighs nighs, I'm goin'' closing his eyes and sighs.

As he tries to relax, Elvis begins to hear clinking of medicine bottles and ruffling of plastic packaging so out of curiosity he opens his eyes and cranes his neck “What are you doing honey?” Huffing out a breath you whine “daddy!” Elvis raising his hands in defeat “Okay alright alright, sorry” he rests his head down on the pillow again. A few moments later, a pair of hands caresses his hair away from his forehead and your voice quietly babbling “Daddy go nighs nighs..sleepy sleepy… puppy wittle puppy” Elvis's lips curve at the corners, stifling a laugh by adjusting himself in bed so he wouldn't ruin the moment for you. Your sweet nature of always looking out for people is one of things that made Elvis think he had to have you because how can he not? Of course because he's Elvis Presley but also because why not have someone like you? Someone so sweet and kind, babying him with all your love, all your devotion. What's not to love?

He sighs again as you continue to sing a lullaby that is obviously made up “Sleepy puppy…sleepy, sleepy, sleepy” The more you sing your little song, Elvis falls into a floaty sleep, soon drifting off. Bringing the covers up to his chin, you hum softly as your attention turns to the first aid box, your little hands hovering over the tops of the medicine bottles and paper boxes filled with bandages and other things that your little brain doesn't have a clue what they're used for. Picking up a thermometer, you cautiously move the blanket from Elvis' arm and slide it under his armpit. Taking a quiet step back, your eyes watch Elvis’ sleeping face with adoration and love. You’re just so lucky to have him as your caregiver, your daddy.

After a somewhat comfortable nap, Elvis wakes up. Looking around the room to find you’re not there, sitting up to rest his back against the headboard and lets out a breathy chuckle when he notices a thermometer under his armpit and shaking his head seeing your favourite stuffie being a white bunny laying next to him, thinking you must’ve put it there for him to feel less lonely.

He turns his head at the sound of the bedroom door creaking open to see you holding a tray with a bowl and spoon, pursing your lips with concentration to not spill anything. “What’s that baby?” Elvis chuckles quietly. A relieved breath emits, you place the tray on his lap “I ask Mary to make you soup!” you state proudly. With a calm nod and a loving smile, Elvis’ heart clenches “Aww… Thank you hon, that’s real sweet of ya” giggling like a schoolgirl, you climb onto the bed next to him and pick up the spoon “Hey, I- I can feed myself darlin” Elvis laughs nervously, watching as you hold the spoon near his mouth. You shake your head and whine “No! Open!” with yet another defeated sigh Elvis opens his mouth letting you spoon feed him. Even though Elvis feels nervous and on edge about you taking care of him, he does find it nice to just let you do what you want since you’re a calm little but of course still need to be disciplined now and again.

As you feed Elvis the last spoonful, you gently pat a napkin to the corners of his mouth, earning a chuckle “Always taking good care of Daddy hm?” poking at your sides playfully, you laugh and gently push his hands away. After Elvis moves the tray onto his bedside table, you decide to snuggle up with him under the blankets. Grinning softly as he sees you nuzzling your head against his chest and holding your favourite toy bunny tightly to yours. “Thank you for looking after me, little” he smiles.

[kiankiwi]

I love contact naps! Can you maybe do a HC for cg!elvis x babyspace!reader?

-🪷

He LOVES giving you contact naps!!

Although he hates taking his shirt off around the guys so if you ever needed a nap around them and were being fussy, he tried to appease you by opening a few of his top buttons and putting your ear to his chest

But nope, most times you wanted his top completely off so he had made a rule with the guys that in order for them to hang out while you napped, they weren't allowed to make fun of his softer features, his belly or anything if you demanded a contact nap forcing him to take his shirt off.

You loved how cuddly and fluffy and warm daddy was but he was a bit self conscious about how much his body had changed since the early days.

He does LOVE to babywear you! As soon as he noticed how productive he could be and still keep you calm? It was game over, give him all the wraps.

Sometimes Jerry has offered to hold you or "wear you" and you love your uncle Jer but if you get tired, daddy is the only one you want.

You LOVE being small enough to sit on his belly and look around at everyone and play with daddy's jewelry on his hands

You just love being as close to daddy as you possibly can

And when it gets cold out but you and daddy still want to go outside, he wears you in the babywrap before he puts his coat on so you're all snug and zipped in before you guys set off

You even love to contact nap when it's warm out and daddy is chilling by the pool! No matter how hot it is, if you're tired, you're gonna try and lay on him and he's just gonna have to deal with it.

And he can't complain bc he loves hearing your adorable sniffles and snores :(

And he loves being big spoon in bed at night but more often than not, you'll end up just laying on top of him, your head snuggled up under his chin as you two sleep

You also often get scared on the plane so hugging onto daddy is where you want to be. And the hum of the planes often put you to sleep if your ears aren't bothering you

@elvisthesillygoose

I hope these were okay!

[mooodyblue]

Imagine Elvis's little just starting to whine because their pacifier fell out of their mouth and him just soothing them as he cleans the paci off and puts it back in their mouth before seamlessly going back to his conversation.

oh this one is too sweet !! here, have a small lil blurb ~~

you were hanging out with elvis and his friends in the music room while he laughed and occasionally played a few keys on his piano. but you were off to the side lazily playing with one of your plushies, your favorite paci in between your lips to keep yourself preoccupied while your daddy spent time with his friends. thankfully his friends didn't mind that you were little.

but then your paci fell out. your brain was too cloudy to fully understand that you could just pick it up, dust it off and then stick it back in between your lips. you glanced over to elvis and whined, staring back down at the small pacifier on the floor.

elvis turned his head to you upon hearing your sniffles and held up his finger to his friends, gesturing them to pause the conversation while he tended to you.

"what's the matter, baby?" he asked you, rubbing your back. you sniffled once more and pointed at your paci on the floor. "oh no! what's that doin' on the floor? i don't think that belongs there...." he picked it up and kissed the bridge of your nose, "daddy's gonna wash it 'n bring it back to ya, promise." he muttered a 'hold on, fellas.' to his friends before ushering off to the kitchen to wash it off.

he returned to you quickly, a wide grin on his face as he crouched down to you, holding it in his hand. "look at that, good as new!" he cheered, sticking it back in between your lips. he kissed the top of your head and smiled at you before sitting back with his friends, continuing his conversation like nothing had ever happened.

[arianatheangel-girl]

Daddy’s Little One

Author’s note: This is for @wanderingelvis, as it was inspired by their innocent!reader stories and the story about E slightly manipulating the reader to drop into littlespace so he can become their caregiver. I can’t wait to see more from you! (This is the second story I wrote inspired by these fics!)

Tagging: @mooodyblue @kiankiwi

Warning; mentions of nursing and bodily functions.

Ever since Elvis had accepted you being his little, and had put you back in diapers after your accidents, you’d simply regressed more and more often, and grown littler and littler.

When you were small, your behavior became more and more like a baby’s; you cried more easily, you sucked your thumb or your pacis most of the time, you drank from bottles (as you’d become too uncoordinated to handle cups too well), you became easily attached to whatever stuffed animals Elvis gave you, and you peed and pooped in your diapers without control or care whenever you needed to go potty (leading Elvis or one of the maids to make sure they checked your diaper every so often so you didn’t get a rash).

Your bedroom at Graceland (as well as the hotel suite whenever he toured) had become a full-fledged nursery; complete with a crib, mobile, rocking chair and changing table made to fit your size. You felt safest in there, and Elvis cuddled you and played with you there all the time, just as if you were his baby. He never minded it; in fact, he loved being able to care for you and baby you like this. He wasn’t always the biggest fan of changing your diapers sometimes, but he never complained; after all, messes came with the territory of being this little, and he understood that.

Most of the Memphis Mafia found all of this confusing at the beginning; Elvis had to explain to them that when you regressed like this, you more or less had the mind of an infant. In essence, you pretty much were a baby minus your adult size, so you reacted to things like one; therefore, you needed to be treated as gently as one. Though some of the guys still found it strange, they’d all more or less gotten used to it by now, and anyway, they didn’t dare defy their boss.

Except for one day.

Red, one of the more bold members of the Mafia, was sitting with Lamar and some of the other guys as you all watched TV; Elvis had gone into the other room to take a phone call. You were happily sat in a large playpen, cuddling a little white teddy bear Elvis had given you in your arms as you babbled gibberish to yourself. At some point, Red spoke up.

“Look, guys, don’t you think this is kinda weird? I mean, she’s a grown woman, right? So what’s with this?”

Lamar just shook his head, motioning for him to be quiet; he didn’t want to discuss this nor risk him getting in trouble with his boss.

Deciding he’d test something (and thinking Elvis would still be on the phone for a while), Red decided to tease you a little bit.

You looked up at him as he approached you, curious as to what he was coming up to you for, before you let out a squeak of surprise as he took Mr. Bear from your arms and held the teddy bear over his head.

“Aww, whassa matta? Does baby want her teddy back? Huh, you want it back? Come and get it then!” He sarcastically cooed to you.

Sniffling, you started to whine and make grabby hands for Mr. Bear back as you got on your knees to try and grab him; you didn’t feel you had the strength to stand up.

Lamar, realizing this was bad, quickly tried to diffuse the situation before it got worse. “Dude, that’s not cool. Just give her the bear back, man.” He told Red, trying to keep his voice calm so as not to startle you further.

Red didn’t listen, and continued to hold your beloved teddy bear over his head as he sarcastically baby-talked to you; your whines turned into full fledged sobs as you desperately grabbed for your bear back and Red continued to hold it out of reach.

“Ooooh, Uncle Red’s got your teddy bear! Does baby want it back? Oh, but baby can’t reach it can she? Poor widdle baby—!”

Just then, Elvis walked through the door with a furious look in his eyes.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE?!” He shouted, causing Red to turn around, realizing he’d seen what was happening. Seeing his boss so angry caused the color to drain from his face as he stammered and tried to explain.

“Uh, boss, we were just joking around—“

Elvis then spoke in a low and dangerous tone as he forcefully took the teddy bear back from Red.

“You took away her bear? What the hell were you thinking, Red?! I told you, she’s mentally like a baby when she’s like this. What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

He looked like he wanted to strangle him; the only thing stopping him was that you were in the room watching him. With that, he scooped you up into his arms and started to bounce you on his hip and rub your back as Red tried to stammer out an apology.

Elvis cut him off with a wave of his hand and an angry look that said “I’ll deal with you later” as he turned his attention to you. “Shh, it’s okay baby. Daddy’s here; Daddy’s got you. Come on, baby, let’s get you back to your nursery, huh?” It was getting close to your nap time anyway.

With that, he carried you upstairs to your nursery, continuing to coo softly in your ear and rub your back as you cried into the crook of his neck, burying yourself in his comforting skin scent of Brut cologne and old cigar smoke.

Once he’d reached your nursery, he walked in and shut the door behind him before settling down with you into the large rocking chair, starting to rock you as he murmured soft baby talk into your ear to try and calm you down. “Here, little, here’s Mr. Bear back. Don’t worry, he’s not hurt. See, he’s right here.” He cooed, handing the little white teddy bear back to you.

You started to calm down after Mr. Bear was back in your arms again, laying your head on Elvis’s—no, Daddy’s—shoulder as you sucked on his shirt collar and tried to stop crying. You didn’t realize it, but you’d gotten so upset that you needed to go potty right now, and you forcefully emptied your little bladder into your diaper, right on Daddy’s lap.

Elvis stopped what he was doing as he felt his lap get warm. “Little one, did you go potty? I think you’ve got a wet diaper right now. Don’t worry, Daddy’s just going to change you now, okay?”

You sniffled and whimpered, nodding as you looked up at him. With that, Elvis lifted you up and gently lay you on your padded changing table, before reaching into one of the drawers and taking out a large pink pacifier, gently bringing it to your lips as you latched on to the rubber nipple, sucking on it gratefully.

Elvis smiled; it never failed to amaze him with what an instant calming effect that little thing seemed to have on his baby. “Just relax, little one. Daddy will get you all cleaned up, okay?” He murmured softly to you as he flipped up your dress and rubbed your tummy a little, before disconnecting the tabs of your diaper and opening it up.

As he expected, you were soaked. He wasn’t surprised; he’d given you a large bottle of milk a little while ago, and he constantly gave you bottles to keep you hydrated.

Elvis hummed to himself a bit as he removed the wet diaper, wiped you clean, and put a new diaper under you, before powdering your bottom and taping up the new clean diaper snugly around your waist (a thicker nighttime one, as you always tended to wet heavily in your sleep). After cleaning his hands with a spare wet wipe, he gently picked you up and sat back down with you in the rocking chair, stroking your hair and starting to rock you.

You’d calmed down considerably by this point, but you still couldn’t help but feel hurt about what had happened. “Mean” You whimpered quietly, removing your pacifier as you buried your head in the crook of Daddy’s neck.

“I know, baby. Red was really mean to you, wasn’t he? Don’t worry honey, Daddy’ll deal with him later and make sure he’s never ever mean to you like that again. I promise.”

Sniffling, you began pulling at Elvis’s shirt, clumsily trying to unbutton it. Immediately, he realized what you wanted.

“Oh, does my baby want nursies? Okay, okay, honey. You can have nursies. Just let Daddy get his shirt out of the way first.”

After he finished unbuttoning his shirt, you immediately leaned down and cuddled up to his hairy chest as you latched onto his left nipple and started to suckle, suckling as if you really were trying to get milk from him.

Elvis just cuddled you in his arms and kept rocking you and cooing softly in your ear as you nursed; sometimes he didn’t entirely understand why you liked doing this, but he understood that it comforted you, and he would never deny you anything that brought you comfort.

He started softly singing to you after a while, alternating between stroking your hair and your back with his free hand as he continued to rock you; he could tell you were close to falling asleep.

After about ten or fifteen minutes of this, your eyes closed and your suckling slowed, your breathing evening out as you fell asleep in Daddy’s arms. Smiling, Elvis picked up your pacifier from where it had fallen on his lap, and carefully moved your mouth away from his nipple before sliding the pacifier in to replace it. Thankfully, you accepted the pacifier without waking up.

After making sure you were fully asleep, Elvis carefully lifted you up and brought you to your crib, tucking you in and making sure Mr. Bear was tucked under your arm, before turning on your mobile (to help keep you asleep) and giving you a final goodnight kiss.

With that, he stood up and re-buttoned his shirt as he carefully slipped out of the room. It was time to deal with Red.

[earthbaby-angelboy]

Imagine what happens if you, say, skin your knee while you're little and playing around the Chautauqua fairgrounds; you come running up to Walter just crying that you've got a boo-boo.

too much of a good thing | little!reader x cg!walter hale (wc: 1,004) - A/N: i was thinking of doing headcannons, but this idea is so cute that it deserves a full fic. with that, i'm going to start calling his little one "adne." it'll make my writing a bit less ambiguous/confusing. enjoy!

It was a hot and sunny morning, so you'd spent most of the day helping Charlene with small tasks, while Walter was nowhere to be seen. As the sun went down, the only illumination on the camping grounds were the small lamps and string-lights some of the performers had pitched up earlier. You began to worry. It was getting dark; where was your daddy? You and Charlene sat in the music tent, with her behind the piano and you sitting on a chair near the bottom of the stage.

"Leenie?" You asked, looking up at her. "Yeeeeees?" Charlene responded in a sing-song voice, while reviewing sheet music for tomorrow night's performance. "Where's dada? Haven't seen him all day."

Without missing a beat or looking away from the information in front of her, she responded "I haven't seen Hale- your daddy, either. I know he's very busy, but I'm sure he'll be done soon."

A small frown appeared on your face, and you murmured, "that's not fair."

Charlene tried not to let out a huff. "I know, honey, but your daddy is a grown-up and needs to do his job, so he can keep paying for all your plushes and pretty little dresses. You wouldn't want to go without those, would you?" She gave you a pointed look that had a playful air to it. You shook your head with a small smile. "No, wouldn' wanna go without those."

Propping a hand under your chin, you began to think. What could you do while waiting for Walter to get back? A few minutes of thinking later, and a lightbulb went off in your head. "Leenie, 's it okay if I go n' catch lightnin' bugs? That way, I can have a jar full of em' for dada when he gets back!" You asked excitedly.

Charlene sighed and finally tore her eyes away from the papers. She looked at you, practically bouncing with excitement at the idea of doing something to appease your daddy. She sighed, and gave in. "You know, honey? I think I've done enough work for today. Let's go catch some of those lil' buggies."

Getting down from her seat on the stage, she took your hand, and walked you out to the middle of the Chautauqua, near Walter's tent. As soon as you saw the little bugs, you took off in a run! The actual objective of catching some had flown out of your head as soon as you saw the beautiful iridescence they provided to the plain atmosphere.

"You better be careful, young lady! We don't need you getting any bruises," Charlene called after you. You giggled and continued to run around the grounds, hopping over the tent stakes and being careful of any rocks. As you continued to play, you became more tired, and a bit more clumsy. Charlene had noticed, but she too was now worrying about where Hale had went. Before she could even think of where to look, she heard a commotion from a tent halfway across the camp. She couldn't make out any of the voices or what they were saying, but she knew that it was bound to get rowdy.

Wanting to get you out of harms way, she called, "Adne, how about we come inside now?"

At the same time, Walter emerged from the tent the commotion was coming from. He was clearly agitated, with some of the performers in his face, shouting things that Charlene couldn't make out. Something about "cutting wages" and "lying about taxes."

She called you again. "Adne, come on-," but was promptly was cut off by the sound of a small thud, then a loud wail.

"...DADA!"

Everyone who had been previously arguing with Walter went silent. Stopping mid sentence, he held up his hand to signify that the silence should remain.

"Baby? You alright?"

"Hale, just get over here!" Charlene called.

Hearing that, he pushed through the crowd and jogged over to where you were on the ground. With the way you'd wailed, Walter was expecting a broken bone or some blood. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Charlene say, "baby, it's not that bad! Just a small boo-boo, nothing a bandaid can't fix!" Which was promptly followed by you shouting, "I'M BLEEDIN' LEENIE!" A smile came over Walter's face when he realized that you had not gotten seriously injured, but had just scraped your knee. Sighing with a slight smile, he crouched down in front of you and tilted your chin up to look at him. "What are you cryin' about, little miss?"

Sniffling, you responded, "got a boo-boo. Don' like boo-boos."

Walter looked up at Charlene, who responded, "she wanted to catch fireflies for you, but got a bit too excited. She's been asking after you all day." He sighed, then went back to you. "Alright, you got daddy's attention. Will ya stop cryin' now?"

You shook your head back and forth, your face puffy and red from the tears. "You gotta kiss it better, dada," you said in a soft voice.

The truth was, you had been thinking about your daddy all day. You wanted him to hold you and give you the attention you needed, but it seemed that he had "more pressing" matters. If the day had gone differently and you had still fallen, you wouldn't be in shambles. But it just seemed that this was what opened the floodgates.

Walter looked behind his shoulder at all of the performers who had been eavesdropping on the conversation, and for sake of seeming tough, he wanted to tell you to stop acting silly. But looking at the pretty little one sitting in front of him, dress splayed out and eyes wide made him throw all hesitation out the window. Softly, he leaned down to kiss your knee.

Seeing the relief on your face, he asked, "better?" You nodded. "M' better. Thankie, dada." He shook his head with a smile. How lucky he was to have someone as gentle and sweet as you.

"You're welcome, lovebug."